A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [202]
“So it is. That settles it, then. There was at least one Boarsman in that lodge this winter—although, truly, he could have been someone who was ousted from the warband, I suppose, and brought his old gear with him.”
“I can’t imagine any of the lads I used to ride with treating a dead man that way.”
“Ah. Well, the man this belonged to might well have been the man who was killed. He was murdered for trying to do an honorable thing. I did find out that much.”
“You talked with the haunt?” Maddyn found it hard to speak, and Aethan was staring horrified.
“Not to say talked, but I asked questions, and he could nod yes or no.” The old man gave him a sly grin. “Don’t look so shocked, lad. While this poor fellow was a good bit less than alive, he wasn’t exactly dead either. He is now, and gone to the gods for a reward, or so I hope.” Nevyn considered for a moment, frowning at the roundel. “Tell me somewhat, Aethan. When you rode for Cantrae, did you ever hear any rumours of witchcraft and dark wizardry? Did anyone ever say that so-and-so had strange powers or the second sight or suchlike?”
Aethan started to shrug indifferently, then stiffened and winced, like a man who shifts his weight in the saddle only to pinch an old bruise.
“An odd thing happened once, years back. I rode as a guard over the gwerbret’s widowed sister, you see, and once we went out into the countryside. It was late in the fall, but she insisted on taking a hawk with her. There’s naught to set it on, say I, but she laughed and said that she’d find the game she wanted. And she did, because cursed if she didn’t fly the thing at a common crow, and of course the hawk brought it right down. She took feathers from its wings and its tail and threw the rest away.” He was silent for a long moment. “And what do you want those for, say I, and she laughed again and said she was going to ensorcel my heart. And she did, truly, but whether she used the wretched feathers or not, I wouldn’t know. She didn’t need them.” Abruptly Aethan rose to his feet. “Is there aught else you want, my lord?”
“Naught, and forgive me for opening an old wound.”
With a toss of his head Aethan strode off into the darkness. Maddyn hesitated, then decided it would be best to leave him alone with his ancient grief.
“I am sorry,” Nevyn said. “Did Aethan get thrown out of the warband for courting the gwerbret’s sister?”
“He did, but things came to a bit more than fine words and flowers, or so I understand.”
“Ah. I saw the Lady Merodda once. She was the most poisonous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I truly wonder about all of this. Here, keep what you just heard to yourself, will you? The men have got enough to worry about.”
“And I don’t, I suppose.”
“Oh here.” Nevyn chuckled to himself. “As if you weren’t burning with curiosity.”
“My heart was ice, sure enough. Well, my lord, I’m about snoring where I stand, and I’d best get some sleep.”
Once he lay down in his blankets, Maddyn drifted straight off, but he did wake once, not long before dawn, to see Nevyn still sitting up and staring into the last embers of the fire.
On the morrow a subdued troop of silver daggers rode straight home to Dun Drwloc That night Nevyn summoned Maddyn and Caradoc to the king’s private chambers for a conference. Casyl had a map of the three kingdoms, drawn in great detail by the priests of Wmm. While Nevyn and the king chewed over the problems involved in getting Maryn to Cerrmor, Maddyn stared fascinated at the map in the flaring candlelight. All the borders of the kingdoms and their provinces were there, marked in red. Even without letters Maddyn could see that it was going to be a long ride and a dangerous one from Loc Drw down to Cerrmor. As long as the prince was in Pyrdon, he was safe, but the Pyrdon border lay a good hundred miles from the border of the Cerrmor holdings. Part of his journey, therefore,